


The Wait

by torturingtaylor (itzaimster)



Category: Hanson
Genre: Captivity, Gen, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 00:04:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4585335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itzaimster/pseuds/torturingtaylor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taylor's in trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wait

**Author's Note:**

> An idea I woke up with four days ago that my brain doesn't seem to want to add to. The result - a drabble!

Taylor thrashed as the man pulled him up by the gag, only tightening the cloth once he had him sitting between his legs. He struggled to stay balanced with his ankles tied so tight, but it was mere seconds before he was once again thrown to the ground.  
The gag now cut into the sides of his mouth, and he knew it would be too tight to push out again.  
With a grunt he rolled onto his side as the man walked away.  
“How long until they call?” he was disgruntled.  
“I don’t know, man. We just gotta wait and see.”  
“Can’t you call someone? This is taking too long! It was supposed to be a quick in and out. Why is he even here?!”  
“Just wait for the call, will you?”  
Taylor eyed the door. It was closed, and too far to make without use of his legs. The cord around his wrists was also tight, but his fingertips could barely grace the knots.  
He needed to get out. He had to warn them these people were coming.  
“I swear to God,” the silence had only been seconds, “if this doesn’t happen in the next two minutes I’m killing him here and now.”  
Taylor’s eyes shot to the dagger he was carrying. It was already bloodied. He knew he was serious.  
Though he’d been praying for it with all of his being, he still jumped when the phone rang.  
“Yeah?” the younger man answered as the other paced.  
Footsteps pounded Taylor’s ears as he strained to hear what was being said. All he could make out was static.  
“Okay,” was the reply after some time, “but we have a problem on this end.”  
Taylor locked eyes with the older captor, knowing he was the problem. The dagger hung lazily at his side.  
“No, he’s still alive. What should we do?”


End file.
